


Not my Son

by WritetheWrong



Category: Days of Our Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:25:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritetheWrong/pseuds/WritetheWrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas's thoughts on losing Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not my Son

It breaks Lucas. 

It breaks him in ways he didn’t know existed.

He’ll be walking past the Brady Pub, on a conference call at work, drinking coffee with Adrienne when suddenly it’ll hit him. Take his breath away, a punch to the solar plexus and he can’t breathe.

Will.

He’ll forget, for a moment he’ll forget. He’ll think ‘oh I should call Will and tell him…’ his hand almost itches for the phone and then…

His baby. Oh god his baby boy. Dead. Strangled. Murdered all alone.

It is the single worst nightmare of Lucas’s life. 

His little boy, his William Robert, the son he’d had when he’d barely been more than a child himself. 

It hurts. Oh jesus it hurts. 

How is he supposed to deal with this? How’s he supposed to ‘get past’ this. How is he ever supposed to live again?

When he learned the truth about Will being his baby it had been the best moment of his entire life. The pieces of his fractured heart had seemed to gravitate back, to heal themselves. He’d never grown up with a dad but he could be that now, he could fix that part of himself with the tiny little life he and Sami had impetuously created. He could be someone for that baby boy. He’d make him proud of him in any and every way possible. 

And he’d tried. Oh how he’d tried. He’d fought for that kid and loved that kid and let him down in so many ways and then picked him up and defended him in others. He had gone to jail for his boy without a single seconds hesitation because that’s what being a father meant to him. Putting someone so far ahead of yourself, loving someone so completely and so much more than you loved yourself. That was Will for him. 

And now, there’s no Will. Nothing makes sense anymore. 

Everyone is walking around, carrying on their lives, living, breathing while Will lies rotting in the ground at 23. Lucas can’t compute that. He can’t understand a world like that. 

It’s why he calls Will’s phone every night just to hear his voice on the voicemail. Why he sits at his grave and talks to him every day. Why his mind and his soul are trying to go through the motions while his heart is six feet underground with his boy. 

He can’t stop replaying it. Will’s death. Was he terrified? Was he gasping for his final breathes thinking of him and Sami and Arianna and Sonny? Did he want his dad then? Did he need Lucas? Did those beautiful eyes flicker closed or stay frozen forever in utter terrified shock at death? 

Nobody should be murdered at 23. Least of all his son. His kind, good natured, mature baby boy who’d put up with all of his and Sami’s schemes and plots and fights and dramas since the day he was born. Especially not that boy.

He keeps seeing him fighting for his life, keeps thinking about himself, god, just calling about that concert he wanted them to go to with Ari whilst his son was…whilst his son was being strangled. 

Lucas feels sick. He’s vomited more in the past few weeks than he has his entire life. Pukes out the endless grief and soul destroying flashbacks of his son’s life. He keeps seeing Hope’s face at Will’s appartment. That look on her face.  
He hadn’t wanted to deal. Couldn’t even process it. He knew that look, had seen it on Hope’s own face after Zach’s death. The utter dread at having to say the words. Your child is gone. He’d known. Had known from the second she’d uttered the words ‘he’s gone’ that Will was dead. He just hadn’t been able to comprehend that. 

And now here he was. A shell. A despondent, desperate shell of a man. 

The Lucas of old would have raged and murdered and schemed to get revenge for his boy, would have ripped apart the person who did this, would have lit the match while Sami laid them over a funeral pyre for their boy. But this version just feels tired. Tired, old, and so sad. Nothing is going to bring Will back to them. 

In a town like Salem you’d think anything’s possible but Lucas has this pit, this dark, dark pit in his soul that says he can’t fix this. His baby is gone. Part of him is forever destroyed. 

Sami’s running around town like a maniac, impetuous, distracted, throwing herself into looking for EJ rather than dealing with the death of her own son. Lucas just feels hollow. Wrung out. 

He thinks of the baby that was created from such passion and drama and love and wonders how they all ended up here, 23 years later with nothing to show for it but ashes and dark, bottomless holes.


End file.
